Fleeting Dreams
by Corvus corone
Summary: A series of small Anders/Nathaniel snippets, each set in a different AU. Three: the Blight never happened, and the Howe family were never disgraced. Anders, however, is still on the run from the templars.
1. Amaranthine

_A/N: I was extremely hesitant to post this, because no matter how much I edit it just doesn't seem to get any more readable. I wrote this about half a year ago, and I find it more embarrassing __than enjoyable to read. -.- Still, I've got two more AU snippets (more AU than this one, which isn't exactly AU anyway) which I'll finish and post in a few days or so. 1000 words of cringing, here we go:  
_

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**Fleeting Dreams**

_In happier times, the Howes visit Amaranthine._**  
**

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Nathaniel is bored and waiting for his father to stop talking business with the merchant so that they can go home. Visiting Amaranthine with his father and siblings is a pleasant distraction for a day or two, but if they wait any longer then it might be too late to start the journey back. He's only just managed to wrench Thomas from the bar and Delilah from the market stalls, and now he just needs Father to join them by the city gates and start walking home.

The merchant's son waves at Nathaniel and rolls his eyes. He looks about as interested in the debate as Nathaniel is. Nathaniel gives him a quick smile to show his agreement. From the sounds of it, their fathers' heated discussion won't be ending anytime soon, and Nathaniel would be a fool to try to intervene in Arl Rendon Howe's arguments. He's already given his father the message to meet them by the gates as soon as possible, anyway. The merchant's son slips out of his chair and exits by a side door, motioning to Nathaniel to follow.

"Maker, they'll probably be at it well into the next Age," says the boy. He looks around the same age as Nathaniel - perhaps a little younger, though it's hard to say with them both still in adolescence – but with his streetwise smirk, sharp features and pierced ear, he gives off the air of being indescribably superior, even to an Arl's son.

Nathaniel makes a sound of agreement and leans back against the side street's wall. "What's your name?" he asks, more for want of killing time than real interest. There are many merchants and many sons.

"Anders at your service," says the other boy in the slightly harsh, nasal accent of the north. "How about you, Ser Arl-in-Waiting?"

"Nathaniel Howe. Pleased to meet you, Anders."

"No need for all that fancy stuff," says Anders, laughing a little. "Just a commoner, here. So, uh... what do _you_ do when you're completely bored out of your mind?"

"Er... practise archery, I suppose. There's not really much time to be completely bored at the Keep."

"Last time I picked up one of the shop's bows, I stabbed myself in the foot. I still don't know how I managed it. I guess weapons aren't really my thing."

"I'm hopeless with swords," says Nathaniel, shrugging.

"Just like me! Well, it's not like I've had any lessons, since my father seems to want me to continue the family business of being stroppy merchants than be a city guard. But I tried some stuff with a dagger once and... that didn't end well either."

Nathaniel glances through a window to see his father and the merchant in what seems to be an escalating argument. It didn't look like anything would be resolved in the near future. He sighed.

"Still, being an extremely stroppy merchant probably isn't going to bring my father much luck with Arl Howe," says Anders, looking as well. "I hope he gets out alive."

"My father would never do anything like that," says Nathaniel, a little stung.

"Sorry," Anders says, holding up his hands and not quite meaning it. "I was joking, alright?"

Nathaniel leans back against the wall again and does a good job of looking extremely bored. Anders soon joins him in that venture.

"You know, there's a distinct lack of pretty girls in this place," says Anders casually. "Is it the same in your castle?"

Nathaniel looks at him sharply and says, "I hadn't thought about it."

"Really? Interested in something else, then?" The boy's smirk has turned into a full-on suggestive grin, and Nathaniel is quite sure that this isn't an appropriate conversation to be having with him.

"The girls at the Keep are none of your business, anyway," he says, glaring. "Why are you asking?"

"Well, if you're _really_ bored... I could help you pass the time?"

Nathaniel sets his face into rather an impressive frown and gets up off the wall. He's quite sure that having a random male stranger hit on him within five minutes isn't a display of proper behaviour and he should really set a few city guards on this Anders, but at the same time he can't help but be intrigued. He curses to himself in his head because this is really, really stupid (more stupid than that impromptu thing with Elissa Cousland last month, because at least that wasn't in a dirty back alley) and not something he should even be considering especially not while sober. It's not his fault that the only other guy who has any interest in him is that Dairren, and that Anders is definitely on the more attractive side as far as they go.

"Fine," he says, almost growling, and moves over to push the other boy against the wall. Anders grins cheerfully and kisses him, fumbling with the laces of his trousers.

It's quick and slightly clumsy but it certainly does make a few minutes pass by much faster. Nathaniel comes first, and hears Anders gasp into his ear as he climaxes a few moments later. There's a sudden light and Nathaniel looks down to see a very small spurt of flame burst out of Anders' hands.

"Heh, lucky timing, or you might have got it a bit hotter than you bargained for," says Anders, shaking his hands violently. His tone seems joking, but his face is fearful as he backs into the shadows.

"Wait," Nathaniel says, but the other boy has already vanished. He looks around for a while, shrugs and walks back down the alley to the shop.

The next time he visits the shop, the shopkeeper is packing up and ready to leave for the neighbouring arling. Rumours of a mage in the family are not good for business; the templars came for his son not even a week ago.

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_Anders's voice actor seems to have some kind of northern English accent which he tries to cover up with RP for Anders's big lines, but it slips sometimes (battle lines especially). I seem to remember some Amaranthine residents having a northern accent, so... yeah. Also, if anyone has an idea for an AU with or without Anders/Nathaniel that they want to see written, I'd love to hear it. :P  
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	2. The Blight

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_on the way to defeat the Blight_

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"I swear, they could not have invented a more uncomfortable way of sleeping," grumbles Anders as he attempts to put up his tent for the night. "My back has been permanently bent out of shape by the sheer amount of lumps in my bedroll."

"Stop moaning," says Leliana cheerfully. "At least you _have_ a tent and bedroll! We could do a lot worse than this."

"Well, you're probably cushioned by the Warden you sleep with," says Anders. "Anyway, how come Morrigan gets her own little caravan and everything? Life is _so_ unfair."

"She doesn't complain about dragging it behind her, though," says Nathaniel. Anders notes jealously that his tent is as perfect as ever,.

"These bedrolls are the worst thing I've ever slept in. And I've slept in a sewer more than once," says Anders.

Leliana sighs. "Let me help you with that."

Anders steps back and watches her skilfully manoeuvre poles and sheets to form a passable tent for the night. "Thanks."

"It was no problem," she says. "You're getting better at it, though... I think."

"I think it's very unfair that you've chosen the Warden as a bed partner and not, say, me. I mean, not only does she now not have to put up a tent at all, like I said before I'm sure you somehow cushion each other from the man-eating lumps in the bedding," says Anders, sighing theatrically. "Are you sure I'm not allowed to join you?"

Leliana laughs. "Of course, those are the only reasons why I like her! And the answer is no. For now, at least." She smiles, and even Nathaniel has to laugh a little at Anders' pained expression.

"What other reason is there? And you can be sure I'll take you up on that offer when 'for now' is over."

"Please make sure he never gets there," says Nathaniel from the fire. "There are some things that I don't want to hear at night."

Leliana gasps, mock horrified. "You eavesdrop on us at night? How very un-chivalrous of you, Nathaniel!"

"You know we all do," says Anders, looking wistful.

It is only because Nathaniel is so very tired and in that state of mind where he can't tell if he's dreaming, hallucinating or maybe awake, that Anders does not get kicked out straight away.

"My tent collapsed," says Anders by way of explanation as he tries to squeeze his bedroll next to Nathaniel's.

"... huh? ... sleeping... go away..."

"It's cold!" says Anders defensively. "Can you move over a bit? There's not much space here."

"... no."

"That's just mean." Anders kicks Nathaniel through the sheet.

"Hey!" Nathaniel sits up and rubs his eyes. "Anders? What?"

"My tent isn't working. It just isn't."

"Your tent is fine." He jabs a finger at it through the opening of his own tent. "See?"

"... yeah, it is fine. Leliana put it up and all. But look, this bedroll has more nasty bits than Oghren's beard and I really, _really_ can't sleep in it. And Leliana and the Warden are keeping me up. It's just getting annoying now. And it's cold."

"Put a shirt on and go bother Morrigan or someone. I'm sleeping," says Nathaniel before slumping back down and attempting to pull the bedroll covers over his eyes. 'Attempting', because Anders is strategically sitting on them.

"Yes... as entertaining as that would be, I'd rather spend my life with all my body parts intact. Come on, move over."

"Are you trying to get into bed with me?"

"Weeell... since you mentioned it..." Nathaniel can't see much in the darkness, but that's definitely a smirk there.

"Go away, mage," he grumbles, and tries to ignore the mass that's pinning down his bedsheets. It comes as a bit of a surprise when Anders leans down and kisses him – he makes a muffled sound that is best described as, "mmfaaah!", there follows a few seconds of confused close contact, and then Anders pulls away. Nathaniel isn't exactly sure how one would _taste_ a smirk, but he seems to have managed that feat. "Now what?"

"Oh, sorry," says Anders not very apologetically. He rolls over and off Nathaniel, stretching in the space next to him. This action squashes Nathaniel a little more, and he wonders again if Anders is not some unholy creation placed on Thedas for the sole reason of annoying him. "I've just been wanting to do that for ages."

Nathaniel sighs, because he hasn't got enough energy for anything else, and maybe tomorrow he'll wake up and realise that this whole conversation was nothing more than a very strange dream. "Look, I just want to sleep. It's been a long day, and I really think we need to save our energy for the Blight. Good night." He draws the covers up in a gesture of finality.

"Judging from the tent next door, the Warden wouldn't agree with you," says Anders, poking him. "How about tomorrow night? Is that good for you? How about a triumphant evening of celebratory _relations_ as soon as we get rid of that pesky little Archdemon?"

"Whatever you say," says the lump inside the bedroll. "And stop that!"

Anders is quite sure that he only said that to put an end to the poking, but it's a promising sign of agreement all the same. He grins, finds a sheet to wrap himself up in, and settles down to sleep. The last thing he remembers thinking before passing into dream-filled unconsciousness is a mental note to put a real fault in his tent tomorrow evening.

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_A/N: Before I started my current on-going epic,_ You Said What Now?_, I had a few other ideas for 'interesting' Origins epics. One of those ideas was an AU in which the Awakening companions replaced some of the Origins ones. I've since forgotten which characters replaced which as well as nearly all my ideas for plot points and relationships, but I do have this scene still saved to my long-lost fic folder._

_In other news, I've managed to get my wallet and my phone stolen as well as contract food poisoning, with the result that my throat hurts like hell from the stomach acid reflux and talking on the phone to all the bank cards I need to cancel and worrying madly about driving license identity theft is not helping. Also, I am packing to move tomorrow. I apologise for any irritation in my PMs/reviews/review replies.  
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	3. Vigil's Keep

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_the Blight never happened_

_._

There's a whistle and a dull thud, and then there is one less bandit at his back trying to put a knife between his ribs. Anders jumps and curses. He hadn't noticed the now-dead robber behind him.

"Thanks, whoever's there," he calls into the darkness. He belatedly hopes that it isn't another group of thieves simply picking off the competition before attempting to rob his own corpse dry. A spark leaps in his hand, carefully hidden for now, in the case of such an event.

"It was no problem," replies a man's voice before the owner steps into the light of the road lamps. Dark hair, and a scowl in both his expression and his voice. Expensive-looking leathers and a richly engraved bow. Probably someone rich enough that a mage-passing-as-a-commoner should know about them. "Those bandits are always waiting around the gates; I haven't had a clear shot at one before now. The rest will have scattered into the woods."

"Er... good. Well. I'm just on my way to Amaranthine, so..."

"At this time of night, without any travelling companions?"

"... I'm late," says Anders. It's not much of an explanation, but saying, 'I'm an apostate trying to get as far away as possible from the templars behind me before they wake up tomorrow morning,' probably isn't the best way to go.

The man seems to consider him for a while before opening his mouth to start another sentence – unfortunately, he is interrupted by the sight of a dozen bandits surrounding them.

"Doesn't look like they scattered to me," mutters Anders, backing up.

"You don't say," says the other man, sarcasm dripping from his tone. He raises his bow and notches an arrow, but Anders isn't sure what a single archer can do against twelve very angry bandits.

"You killed Bob," growls what seems to be the leader of the group. He raises his rather dirty-looking sword menacingly. "Boys, get the Arl. Two of you go for the other one."

Hmm, Anders thinks as a pair of knife-wielding men charge towards him. Freedom probably isn't worth dying at the hands of a few unwashed would-be thieves. He glances towards the archer currently firing into the mob stampeding towards him and makes up his mind. The spark in his hand explodes into a chain of lightning – the bandits shriek in surprise as the charge courses through their bodies. Ha! Hadn't expected a mage, had they?

"Get the mage!" roars the leader before an arrow flies into his throat – Anders looks round and sees a second arrow splinter in mid-air and stun three of his bandit cronies. Impressive shooting, there. He takes advantage of the nicely stunned group to cast a quick freezing spell and watches with satisfaction as another well placed arrow shatters the most annoying of the newly-created ice statues.

The rest of the bandits are easy pickings and it isn't long before the pair is standing in a circle of alternately frozen and numerously punctured bandits. The man – the Arl? – puts away his bow on his back and turns to Anders, frowning.

"You're a mage?"

"... kind of? It would be really, really nice if you didn't tell the Chantry that I was out here. I forgot to tell them that I was going to visit Amaranthine, and you know how fussy they are with signed permission slips and all that. Anyway, I'm Anders. Apostate mage at your service." Anders crosses his fingers and hopes that the whole saving-your-ass-from-bandits thing would work in his favour.

The man scowls a little more. "Since introductions are in order, I'm Nathaniel Howe. The current Arl of Amaranthine. Perhaps you should come to Vigil's Keep for the night."

Anders nods slowly, considering his options. No doubt there'd be a Chantry priest or templar waiting at the Arl's castle – which would be bad, if the Arl really did intend to turn him in. And escaping from a heavily guarded Keep once he did get turned in would be harder than simply knocking out – or killing, since he might tell Rylock about him once she caught up tomorrow and woke him up – the Arl right now and making a break for it.

Still, murdering someone who had just helped him out of bandit troubles twice in the last ten minutes did seem a little harsh. Worst comes to worst, he'd be sent back to Circle Tower and get another few years of solitary confinement (hopefully he wasn't on his final warning yet). At least he had Mr Wiggums.

"Fine," he says, following the Arl through the Keep's gates. "But there'd better be good food there."

Much to his surprise, the Arl does not immediately announce his apostate-ness to the nearest priest. Instead, he tells the guard that Anders is a merchant victim of the bandits outside who is welcome to use a guest room for the night as there are no other visitors this evening, and gives a servant orders to find him some more wearable clothes. (Hey, it wasn't _his_ fault that his contact in Redcliffe only had clothes two sizes too small. And only in the most horrific of colours.)

In the few minutes that he spends with the chatty servant, he learns that the Arlessa is in Denerim visiting the court of King Cailan and will be back tomorrow evening, that bandits are a constant trouble for the poor travellers on the Pilgrim's Path, that the groundskeeper has found a mysterious tunnel in the cellar leading to the Deep Roads... Anders gives her a quick kiss on the cheek for her helpful efforts before wandering downstairs to the kitchens.

The Arl, now dressed in the usual nobleman getup, catches him halfway there and cordially invites him to a rather late supper, if he would like to join him. Anders says yes, because he _is_ very hungry and eating a proper meal would probably be more filling than mooching scraps off the kitchen girls, even if he's a little unsure of this generous hospitality.

Anders makes small talk over the meal (very simple; just some bread and some cold meat from earlier, since the cooks had not had enough notice to produce anything more luxurious) and the Arl – Nathaniel, Anders begins to think – listens to him with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. He doesn't really say much in reply at first, though as the conversation goes on, Anders finds himself enjoying the man's company more and more. He drops in a few flirtatious lines now and again (when the wife's away...) and thinks that maybe Nathaniel returns them just as well. Well, at the least he's definitely not directly shooting him down, and Anders wouldn't be here today if he hadn't learnt to take his chances whenever he could. Still, there's something in the air around the Arl that seems distant, almost... sad, in a barely noticeable, sneakily subtle kind of way. It distracts Anders a little, and he finds that he has slipped and told some amusing anecdote about the Circle Tower.

"Don't worry," says Nathaniel, noticing his panicked expression. "The servants will have gone to sleep by now."

Sure enough, there are no servants waiting around the room ready to collect plates, and Anders hopes that there aren't any particularly mage-hating ones eavesdropping outside. He sighs. "Why am I not in chains and being laughed at by bucketheads on the way back to the prison?"

"I could hardly arrest a man who saved my life," says Nathaniel mildly, "as well as ridding the grounds of those thieves who have been plaguing Vigil's Keep for the last month."

"Think of it as repayment," Anders says. "That was a nice shot at the one behind me." Nathaniel shrugs, and Anders notices that his right shoulder seems pained. "Those idiots didn't get you at all, did they?" He gestures to the theoretical wound.

"No, it's nothing. Really."

"Hey, I'm a mage. Spirit healing was my first major," says Anders. "I could do something about it?"

Nathaniel raises his eyebrows and Anders takes that as a yes.

"Take off your shirt," Anders says, pointing at Nathaniel's shoulder.

"That sounded like you had ulterior motives," says Nathaniel in that fervent yet strangely deadpan voice and Anders laughs. He doesn't take off the whole garment, but does unbutton the top few buttons and rolls it down his injured shoulder.

"If there really is a templar hiding under the table waiting for me to incriminate myself, I'm not going to help out next time," says Anders. He gets up and stands behind Nathaniel's chair, putting a hand on the swollen gash and making Nathaniel wince. It's not _too_ serious an injury, so Anders is confident that his healing powers are more than a match for it. A few hand waves and pulses of magic later, the skin knits together and the bruise vanishes.

There's a tension in the air and Anders quickly removes his hand from Nathaniel's skin. He recognises this particular tension from his experiences in the Tower and elsewhere, and for a moment he wonders where he's trying to get to with a married Arl while supposedly on the run from the Chantry.

"I should get to sleep," says Nathaniel. He pulls his sleeve back up his shoulder, and then stands up and faces him. "Thank you for the healing. Good night."

The way his eyes linger on Anders for that moment after he's finished speaking is almost an invitation, and Anders doesn't bother thinking any more before putting his hands around Nathaniel's neck and kissing him before he can resist.

The next morning, Anders slips out of Nathaniel's bedroom before anyone in the Keep could have woken up, and continues on his journey to Amaranthine.

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_A/N: Yet another idea for an AU epic sadly abandoned, except for this (not very fleshed out) scene and a few scraps. One questions: what's that Bob with the bandits?  
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_I'm slowly recovering from last week's catastrophic weekend, although my throat burns whenever I drink anything vaguely acidic like orange juice, and I've finally figured out how to connect my laptop to the internet! :D So... if anyone has any particular Nate/Anders requests, go ahead and ask away! I need inspiration for more chapters.  
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